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O, none of both but are of high desert:
My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death;
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

Aar. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
For fear they die before their pardon come.
Marc. My hand shall go.

Luc.

By heaven, it shall not go! Tit. Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as

these

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,

Let me redeem my brothers both from death. Marc. And, for our father's sake and mother's care,

Now let me show a brother's love to thee. Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand. Luc. Then I'll go fetch an ax.

Marc. But I will use the ax.

182

[Exeunt Lucius and Marcus. Tit. Come hither, Aaron; I 'll deceive them both: Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. Aar. [Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,

And never, whilst I live, deceive men so:
But I'll deceive you in another sort,
And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass.

190

[Cuts off Titus's hand.

Re-enter Lucius and Marcus.

Tit. Now stay your strife: what shall be is dis

patch'd.

Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: Tell him it was a hand that warded him From thousand dangers; bid him bury it; More hath it merited; that let it have. As for my sons, say I account of them As jewels purchased at an easy price; And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. Aar. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand

201

Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
[Aside] Their heads, I mean. O, how this vil-
lainy

Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.

[Exit. Tit. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:

If any power pities wretched tears,

To that I call! [To Lav.] What, would thou kneel with me?

210

Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our

prayers;

Or with our sighs we 'll breathe the welkin dim, And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. Marc. O brother, speak with possibilities,

And do not break into these deep extremes. Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?

Then be my passions bottomless with them. Marc. But yet let reason govern thy lament. Tit. If there were reason for these miseries,

220

210. "would"; so Qq.; Ff. read "wilt"; Capell conj. "wou't."-I. G.

Then into limits could I bind my woes:

When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?

If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd: 230
For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave; for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand.
Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid

For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;
And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back,
Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd:
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death.

Marc. Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily,

240

[Exit.

And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some
deal,

But sorrow flouted at is double death.

226. "blow"; the reading of Ff. 2, 3, 4; F. 1, Qq., “flow.”—I G.

Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a

wound,

And yet detested life not shrink thereat!

That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to

breathe!

250

[Lavinia kisses Titus. Marc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless

As frozen water to a starved snake.

Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Marc. Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus;

Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads,
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banish'd son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless, and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: 260
Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal
sight

The closing up of our most wretched eyes:
Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?

Tit. Ha, ha, ha!

Marc. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this

hour.

Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed:

Besides, this sorrow in an enemy,

And would usurp upon my watery eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears: 270
Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
And threat me I shall never come to bliss

Till all these mischiefs be return'd again
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about,
That I may turn me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head;
And in this hand the other will I bear. 281
Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in these things:
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
teeth.

As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
[Exeunt all but Lucius.
Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
The woefull'st man that ever lived in Rome: 290
Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,
He leaves his pledges dearer than his life:
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;

O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been
But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives

But in oblivion and hateful griefs.

282-283. "employ'd in these things," etc.; so Ff.; Qq., "imployde in these Armes"; perhaps, as the Cambridge editors suggest, the original MS. had as follows:

"And thou, Lavinia, shalt be imployd,

Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth,”

the Quarto reading being due to a correction of “teeth” to “armes”; the latter being taken by the printer as belonging to the previous line.-I. G.

292. "leaves"; Rowe's emendation of Qq., Ff., "loues."-I. G.

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